


The Bet and The Bruise

by AbbieHollowDays (USS_Ichabbie)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Multi, Romance, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:04:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USS_Ichabbie/pseuds/AbbieHollowDays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie and Jenny visit an old black church on Easter Sunday and Crane comes along for the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet and The Bruise

**Author's Note:**

> Really been missing Mills sister bonding moments and wanted to feature that here. Light Ichabbie coming too (as always).

"Miss Mills and Miss Jenny, as much as I have been enjoying the melodious sounds of laughter and song whilst I have waited _fully dressed_ the past thirty minutes for the pair of you to finish "putting on your faces", perhaps we should leave sooner than later so as not to miss the entirety of this morning's church service?" Crane bellowed up from the first floor; his voice betraying his growing irritation.  
  
The music turned off immediately and it was Jenny who answered back first. "Oh, don't get your pantaloons in a twist, Ichy... Gorgeous takes time!

Crane began to sputter just as Abbie’s head appeared at the top of the stairs. Large rollers wobbled in her hair as she braced herself against the wall.  “What Jenny means is…”

“I meant what I said!” Jenny shouted behind her.

“What she _means_ … is there’s really no such thing as being “late” at this church.  It's more like...” she pursed her lips in thought. “it's more like we're arriving... ‘fashionably holy’.”

At this, Crane grunted in derision but he was visibly more calm.

“Go make yourself some tea and relax, Crane. We'll be down soon.” Abbie gave him her most charming smile before disappearing again.  “Promise!”

Crane returned her smile despite himself and walked toward the kitchen, but returned seconds later to shout, “And i will have you know, Miss Jenny, that today I am wearing a most comfortable pair of boxer briefs!”

Five seconds of silence was followed by a burst of uproarious laughter from the sisters.

Walking away again, he muttered, “Pantaloons, indeed...”

 

***********

  
“Still can't believe you were brave enough to invite him.” Jenny carefully applied blush as Abbie reclaimed her spot at the double vanity of her master bathroom.

“He practically begged to tag along.  Especially when he found out we might learn more about The Shard.” Abbie shrugged, and picked up her eyeliner. “What am I gonna do… tell him, ‘No, you can't go to church with us’?”

“Ok,” Jenny persisted. “but what kind of church did he go to back in the day?”

“I don't know…”  she said distractedly. “Church of England I think? Wasn't really much of a church-gore as far as I can tell.”

“So you invited a guy from the 1700s who has only been too super-solemn, super-quiet, super-short services in a room full of rhythm-less white people and the first church you take him to in the 21st century is a black church? And not just any black church,  but ‘The First Church of The Apostolic Succession of The Disciple Peter Who Denied Christ Twice But They Made Up After He Came Back To Life So They Cool Now, They Cool, Just Chillin’ In Heaven….and Deliverance Ministry’?

This sent Abbie into a fit of laughter so violent she nearly poked herself in the eye. “That…” she said, when she could finally breathe, “is not its name!”

Jenny had a theory that the longer the name of a church the more likely it was for the congregation to be a little bit… eccentric.  Abbie would never ever admit it, but more often than not her sister’s theory held out and ‘Christ the Redeemer’s Holy Tabernacle of Praise and Worship’ was no exception if the stories she’d heard were true. However, their services were held at the site of one of the first black churches in the county and was potentially a treasure trove of information they needed.

“Close enough though.” Jenny smirked as she applied a second coat of mascara. “Joe at least went to church with his mom in _this_ century, but I think he’s still a little traumatized after I took him to that Baptist Church a few months ago and that’s _after_ prepping him ahead of time.”

This time it was Abbie’s lips that curled into a mischievous smile.  

“Oh. My. God.” Jenny exclaimed.  “You didn’t even warn him?” Visions of Crane in a state of twitchy panic flew through her mind.

“It'll be… a learning experience…” she answered, giggling wickedly.

Jenny pointed at Abbie’s double in the mirror. “You're evil!”

Abbie made a face of innocence then blotted her lipstick on a piece of tissue paper. Leaning in, she popped her lips together while checking out the rest of her reflection.

It was Easter Sunday. She’d chosen a lightweight carnation yellow dress with a silhouette reminiscent of the 1940’s. As with most of her clothes, she had to get it altered due to her short stature and this one fell just below the calf in order to (as her tailor put it) “lengthen her lines” and make her look taller.

She didn’t feel much taller, even in the coordinating high heels she’d chosen, but the ensemble did suit her well, if she said so herself.

Her musing was interrupted by Jenny dancing behind her like a hype man singing Nicki Minaj & Beyonce’s “Feeling Myself”. Abbie rolled her eyes dismissively, but then played her part; raising her arms to dance coolly and mouth along with the words.

Jenny stopped moving long enough to wrap her arms around her petite older sibling and look at their faces together in the mirror.“Look at my sexy ass big sister!” she said, smiling broadly.  She went in to kiss Abbie’s cheek (more out a desire to leave a lipstick print than sentiment), but was not fast enough.

Abbie ducked away and took a few steps back. “Hey...” she raised a finger in her sister’s direction but noticing the smug look it elicited, quickly brought her hand back down to her side.  She’d had just about enough ribbing from her sister and coworkers alike for the Crane-esque mannerisms she’d picked up; especially since they'd become roommates.

“Hey… ” Abbie began again; this time gesturing at her own face with an open hand. “No messing up my face, woman! Do you know how long it took me to get this look together?”

“Yeah… yeah.” Jenny said in a mock grumble. “And we don't want Ichy to have a coronary down there.”

Dropping her lip gloss into her purse with a flourish, she turned to Abbie and put a hand on her hip.  “Alright… How do I look?”

Abbie surveyed her sister with pride.  Eyebrows seemingly arched by the angels themselves framed her face which was enhanced by as subtle application of makeup; soft curls in a loose side ponytail tumbled over one shoulder.  

Since she’d be the one to root around in the dusty and forgotten areas of the church she’d gone with a dusky purple dress with a bit of sheen that gently hugged, but more importantly was easy to dust off and wouldn’t show too many wrinkles.

Neither of the Mills girls dressed to the nines very often; Abbie preferring her uniform of jackets and jeans and Jenny her tees and camo pants, but this was a mission, they knew how to look the part.

“Hmm…”  Abbie put a finger to her lips. “Just needs one more thing.”

She ducked into her bedroom and returned with two round boxes, holding one out to her sister.

“No way!”  Jenny grabbed the box, then gently removed its contents.  Abbie opened her box as well.

Two hats. Small. White. Feathers on one; flowers and gauzy tulle on the other. Entirely unsuitable for women so young. Over-the-top. Like the ones mama would wear on Sundays before things got bad. Like the ones they would still play with when they were far too old for dress-up because they brought memories of her.

“Too much?” Abbie asked.

Neither of the Mills girls were prone to outburst of emotion; Abbie holding it in until she was alone; Jenny pretending to be tough until she could get to the gun range… but this was about mama.

Jenny embraced Abbie, careful not to crush the delicate gift in her hands. “It’s perfect.”

She went in for a kiss.  This time Abbie let her.

**Author's Note:**

> Really been missing Mills Sister bonding and want it to be a focus here. Light ichabbie too as always. :)


End file.
